??in a single day and night of misfortune,
the island of Atlantis disappeared
into the depths of the sea.?

-Plato, 360 B.C.

[image=http://img14.imageshack.us/img14/8088/atlantis01.gif]

The ambient sounds of the busy airport fill your ears as the time of departure for your flight slowly approaches. You are traveling to the island of Bermuda, considered by many to be a beautiful paradise, a vessel of freedom from the problems of the world. The reason for this trip is yours to know. A simple vacation? A business trip? An escape? It doesn?t matter. What matters is what lies ahead.

Characters: At the start of this game, your characters will not know each other. They will simply be on the same flight traveling to Bermuda. You can play any type of character you like, any unassuming role you can think of is fair game. The sheet follows, please PM it to me for approval before posting it in the thread:

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Nationality:
Appearance:
Personality:

The reason I do not ask for a biography is to leave things open for the players to discover as they play through the game. You will all certainly be getting to know each other as the RPG progresses.

Rules:

1) Respect the [link=http://boards.theforce.net/UserPages/Terms.aspx]Terms of Service[/link].
2) One character per player.
3) PM your character sheet to me for approval BEFORE posting in the thread.
4) Please PM me any questions you may have, as OOC comments are only allowed to a very small degree.
5) The overarching story will progress in designated Chapters, but added subplots by the players are encouraged.

Name: SebastiÃ¡n Roth
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Nationality: Argentine
Appearance: Scruffy, with dark shaggy hair and fair skin. His nose is hooked, and his features are somewhat drawn. He's not an exceptionally tall man, but he's handsome in a modest way, and his eyes, beneath his square-rim glasses, are often bleary with drink. His clothes, in stark contrast to his physical appearance, are usually impeccable, and he's boarded the plane in a well-fitting Italian suit, his collar unbuttoned, sans tie, and with a fancy leather covered flask to go with his fancy, leather shoes. The bag he carries with him is made from [link=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capybara]carpincho[/link] leather.
Personality: More than a bit holier-than-thou, Sebas Roth carries himself with the assured condescension of an artist that has met with acclaim.

Appearance: Thin, lanky man who almost looks like a scarecrow with his spiky almost shoulder length dark blonde hair. His features are wide and round, and would always soft if it wasn?t for what looked like a permanent scowl on his face. Wears thick, but tiny glasses that magnify his pale brown eyes

Personality: Overtly friendly when out of his shell but occasionally awkward, and usually completely introverted?unless someone tries talking to him first or something relating to history or film pops up. Usually can?t read between the lines on what people are saying.

On small unimportant or social matters, Dawner always gives into to group pressure, unless its something that he finds important?.in witch case he becomes overtly stubborn. Regardless of him being right or wrong, he will most likely stick to his guns unless its painfully obvious he was wrong. Even then he might harbor a grudge.
Options: Reply

ApprovedName: Dr. Bryan Thorn Age: 35 Gender: Male Nationality: German-American Appearance:
Bryan has dark hair thats not short, but not long either. He has green eyes with a blueish tint to them. He has good skin complexion in his opinion that matches the way he looks, and fits well with his physical appearance. It doesn't look odd, in his personal opinion, but it doesn't make him seem "Fatherly". He stands at 6' 1''. When in casual clothes, he typically wears jeans and either a polo or just a regular t-shirt. At formal occasions, he wears expensive, nice tuxedos and suits. He has good posture, and doesn't typically slouch when sitting or walking. Personality:
Bryan Thorn is a down-to-Earth kinda guy. He enjoys the simple things in life such as the great outdoors with camping and hiking. He loves to be around people, and loves helping people, which is obvious enough from his career choice. He will always be around for help to those around; not only for physical pain, but emotional pain too. He is a pretty good guy who knows how to keep his temper in check...most of the time. Bryan religious views are with sceintology. However, he won't express himself, and will not preach anything to anyone. Once again, he believes in equal rights and freedom of choice. He is a known philantropist. />

Appearance: Meredith is around 5ft 5in tall, and is an average healthy weight for her height. She has a round face and blue/grey eyes. She has auburn red hair, which is styled in two braids. She is pale Caucasian skinned, however she has a number of tattoo's. She has a half tattoo sleeve on her upper right arm, composed of mainly Japanese inspired imagery (geisha's cherry blossoms, dragons etc). A phoenix on her upper left arm. She also has a tattoo of a lotus on her lower back, and an intricate flower design on her left inner wrist. She has her left eyebrow pierced. She wears dark coloured boyfriend style jeans, black converse shoes and a vest top emblazoned with a anime-chibi inspired character. She carries a dark red satchel covered in badges, patches and other little nick-knacks.

Personality: Meredith is a very creative and artistic minded individual. She is imaginative, focused, and good listener, traits she feels are essential in her line of work. She has a dry sense of humour, However like everyone she is prone to flashes of anger in certain situations and sometimes comes across quiet and guarded if something is bothering her. She is a firm believer in playing her part and helping others to the best of her ability.

Appearance: Hailing form a blue collar background, Alex takes her appearance to the point of functionality. Short and slight, a simple pair of pale jeans, a black leather belt and a navy three quarter sleeve adorns her five foot three frame. Although not married she wears a gold ring on her left hand. She wears a black, small gage plug in her right ear and has a vertical tattoo on her right side she keeps hidden underneath her shirt. She incessantly pulls her black hair back in a small bun and wears only a spattering of neutral brown makeup believing her bone structure does the rest.

Personality: Strict gender roles while growing up catapulted Alex into a state of ?butch? early in life. Her tongue never rests when she feels slighted and with her male dominated work environment it is almost required. She will not enter into a conversation or argument unless provoked, where she will make sure her view is expressed. She however has a problem with taking compliments and will often turn the wording into a joke. She often enjoys bantering, replying with a dry comment and a pointed remake.

All right, great sheets folks! Really impressed, now lets get this thing goin', shall we?

Chapter I: Departure

Every digital clock in the airport read 09:41:21am, and the time of departure for Flight 472 drew nigh. Many people were seated in the black leather chairs at the gate, waiting for the voice overhead that would tell them that they were now ready to board. A woman concentrated on a spreadsheet document on her laptop while her young son entertained himself with a handheld gaming device. A large man in business attire was speaking quietly on his cell phone. A family of four were smiling and laughing together, excitedly speaking of what they were going to do once they reached their destination.

The flight was traveling to Bermuda, a favorite vacation spot for many people, where the pink sands of the beach would collide with the clear blue tides of the ocean. A paradise, to be sure. But for these folks traveling on Flight 472, something different awaited them. Something tragic.

And now, our story begins here. With three men and two women...

OOC: Alright! Players can go ahead and make their introductions now, and then we'll proceed. Welcome to The City Called Atlantis! />/>/>

?Pete, did you make sure to check all the luggage? Trust me I don?t want to be a week late from work after this little vacation, just because you forgot a piece of an identification. I know JET won?t like it either.? Akria asked, thumbing through The Stranger, a thin little book that all snobs like the three of them had to be seen reading one time or another. Dawner never like it though, he never got a chance to wrap his mind around the symbolism after the main character shot the Muslim character for no freaking reason. He needed to empathize with the main character and cast to dig deep into the novel, not just stare vacantly at the book wanting to yell ?What the hell?? in his head.

?Of course dude, I?m not a moron.? Peter muttered, as he picked up his copy of A Game of Thrones from the small coffee table, as he heard a small sigh of slight disgust from Alan Gibbson, the small chubby man next to him.

?You really read that crap?? The small man asked, as he grabbed his cup of espresso, and took a small zip, barely hiding his look of disgust as he swallowed it. A poser to the end, Peter thought. Peter had to admit though, Alan took his baldness in grace, deciding to just shave his head rather try and hide it through a comb over or a hat.

?Can you just let me read?? Peter mumbled from behind the book. He was getting tired of this.? They where acting like he holding up a sign saying he couldn?t dress himself.

?Dude you might as well be reading Harry Potter and the Marvelous Manchild.? Alan said, taking another sip of a drink he hated to no end, and was fooling no one of anything else.

?Alright I get it I like fantasy, I must live in my Mom?s Basement, give me a break and let me read this!? Peter almost shouted, and as his head swung around to see the time on the giant digital clock that loomed over the middle of the little walkway that lead to various terminals. Crap.

?Let?s save this conversation for later, we?re going to be late!? Peter said, grabbing his coffee and doing the classic speed walk routine nearly all passengers cutting close did. He also did the classic semi polite shove to various people the faceless crowd heading the other way, with a small mutter that followed every shove that sort of sounded like sorry. He had no doubt that also uttered a reply that he couldn?t hear clearly. It was either ?Jerk? or a thousand other dirtier variants of it.

?Tickets?? a short blonde woman asked?

?Yes, right here.? Peter said producing three first class tickets, knowing he was going to enjoy little in their frantic last minute vacation. Maybe things would be better in Japan?

SebastiÃ¡n grinned as he unscrewed the cap of the Coca Cola bottle he produced from his bag. No one would be able to tell it was filed with rum. A portable Cuba Libre. He needed the drink - he was exhausted, and hadn't had a wink of sleep in days. Too much partying, too much publicity for the acclaimed novelist. The New York Times had said "Roth's prose, in the tradition of Jorge Luis Borges and other Argentine masters of magical realism, leaps off the page and whisks you along into the occult, labyrinthine world of its protagonists."

No wonder, then, that it had been turned into a movie starring Johnny Depp.

It told the tale of a band of international travelers whisked away into the Bermuda triangle, to another plane, wherein they were all forced to confront the demons within them. Both whimsical and deep, at turns humorous and tragic...

The movie was, as the Argentines said, un quilombo. A mess. And worse, at the panel discussions, no one wanted to hear what Roth had to say, what his input was on the novel he'd written or the adaptation he'd penned for the screen. Not a one. They all wanted to hear Captain Sparrow go on about his "process." Disgusting. Americans were disgusting and they had no appreciation for art.

Not that Roth wasn't enjoying himself otherwise. This trip to Barbados, to screen the film in the tropics, would prove quite nice. Roth sipped his rum and Coke, and opened up his notebook to begin writing his next novel. Perhaps a story about a writer who finds himself lost in his own story, conquered and controlled by a story that's grown too large for him.

He double checked his passport - it was there - and his ticket - first class - and uncapped his pen.

Meredith Hart sighed, she had already followed that instruction more than a handful of times but for some reason the call wouldn?t connect across the pond. She had promised to call her grand-parents back home to check in before boarding her connecting flight to Bermuda, but in her hastiness to get going she had forgotten to change the sim card in her cell phone for use abroad. Now she was fiddling with one of those pre paid international phone card things. Glancing at the currently useless cell phone in her other hand, she sighed, finally conceding defeat and replaced the phone booth handset with a click and a grumble. She would just have to try later.

Since departing London things had not gone all that smoothly. Delays at Heathrow due to the infamous British weather, then the direct flight was cancelled due to a technical fault. She was able to get onto another flight, but it would involve having to catch a connecting flight to Bermuda. This catalogue of chaos is what led her here, waiting for flight 427. Throwing her satchel back over her shoulder and bundling her hooded jacket in her arms, she started walking towards the designated gate. Arriving at the gate, she slumped down on the black leather seating and blew out a tired breath. All this travelling was beginning to get the better of her.

Opening up her bag, she made sure that her ticket was within easy reach. Economy class, not that she minded that much. Once she made sure her ticket was safe, she pulled out a magazine and thumbed it open. A heavily tattooed couple graced the cover, and the title ?Skin Candy? was drawn in elaborate scripted letters. There was still some time to kill before the boarding call. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw an elderly commuter give her a dirty look, but she ignored it.

She just hoped that once she arrived in Bermuda, things would start to look up and she could start enjoying her self

The military he hated, but then he would be out of the job. Bryan sketched on Wacom tablet spinning around a design he had played with for over a month. There were countless questions on performance. Ten models for one product managed to confuse Bryan from time to time. Finishing a sandwich ordered about seven minutes ago, he turned everything off. Soon it was all in a suitcase specially made for his needs. Money seemed to be no object nowadays. Thorn Labs helped the process, but the war egnited the engines.

Bryan rummaged through his bag, finally finding his passport. Really, he had no reason to go on this trip, except to clear his mind so he could get back to work. The lab had at least fifty government contracts. Therefore, this little time away was long overdue. Even with endless resources, a man could only take so much. He sat down on a leather chair facing the windows. Bryan enjoyed the sun, and the heat it brought with it. The plane would be boarding soon, and he only had a couple of minutes to get his possessions together.

The last few years have been torture on his mental state, but regardless he dished out new and improved weapons and guidance systems that killed thousands a day. Bryan did not even know how he dealt with what was being done with his inventions. Life goes on, guns kill, and men die.

He decided retire soon, considering he has become a Bill Gates of sorts, and barely used any of the money has had made. Bryan could live out his life in peace, and become an artist, as he wanted to be long ago. He had too much of an inventive mind to embrace it back then. It has not died, only overworked.

Most definitely sick...she thought as her eyes scrunched together, her whole body reverberating with a mighty sneeze. Grunting as she sniffed and sniffled, Alex pulled out a small gray laptop. She drummed her fingers along the armrests of her chair as the blue windows start-up bar worked. With a beep the screen blacked before blinking back into existence. Sneezing once more, Alex typed 'Flu vaccination' into the search bar. Somewhere along the line, Leanne had talked her into the nasal spray. Her eyes traveled down the small text until she came to side effects.

Runny nose, headache, sore throat, cough...

The laptop snapped shut. "Actors!" She hissed under her breath. Trust the stage-manager to call for an all crew vaccination a day before her flight. If an actor got sick...havoc would be the least of their worries. In response, any personal within throwing distance of the actors would be vaccinated. No matter if they were to leave the following day. Alex grunted and sighed putting her laptop away. This vaccination costs money, union money...but money none the less. It crept up into Alex's vacation time.

Taking a slow breath her anger began to dissipate as she scratched at her side and smiled, stifling down a sneeze. The freshly healed ink often decided to make itself known, itching needlessly. Needles were a childhood fear grown into an adult discomfort and if tattoos were a status symbol among her fellow electricians, Alex took one for her pain. One was enough, as her pride had stayed intact and she chose to show her dominance in different ways.

Yawning, Alex pulled out her ticket, fiddling with the edges of the hard stock paper as she waited. Economy class, a meager salary's proud earnings.